Resonance
by dearheadlights
Summary: "An object in motion will stay in motion and, Naru imagined, he was no different. Of course, ghost hunt life never really cooperated with the laws of physics, or geniuses." In which Naru develops the unfortunate symptom of being human. Naru x Mai. [Rated T/M]. Part III up.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: An object in motion will stay in motion and, Naru imagined, he was no different. Of course, life never really cooperated with the laws of physics or geniuses. Naru x Mai. [Rated T/M]

Author's Note: Set six years after the end of the novels. Rating may change.

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**Resonance**

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Part I

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An object in motion will stay in motion and, Naru imagined, he was no different. Without impetus or change the progression of one thing in its given direction was endless and inevitable.

It was, if not beautiful, at least reassuring.

Naru had seen this momentum in his own routines, his habits of interaction and had been content with that knowledge of purpose. While others around him floundered in emotional turmoil, in self-created discord, he persisted unscathed. Even now, as his employees bickered over _something_ or other outside his door (they had really grown far too insubordinate lately) he was perfectly able to continue on without becoming involve—

"Oh _come on!_ You can't possibly be serious, Yasu!" Mai's high indignancy carried through the office like a shot. Naru frowned. Sure, the girl was easy to rile, but that was usually because of _him_ and his intellect, pointing out flaws or errors in her methods or deductions. Yasuhara was rarely able to garner such scorn.

Something else was said that Naru couldn't make out before Mai screech/gasped: "Both of them? That's perverted!" And then loud laughter that sounded suspiciously like Takigawa and Matsuzaki having a gaffing fit.

Naru sighed, rubbing his temples and making his way to the door. It wouldn't do to have them cause all this ruckus when they _knew_ he was trying to work; it was damaging to his authority. Still, the young scientist stopped just shy of pressing the handle. If any of them could see him, they might mistake his pause as eavesdropping—for which they would be completely mistaken, of course. He simply wanted to make sure that the silliness was still continuing and necessitated his entrance.

"Oh come off it, Mai," Naru heard Yasuhara's voice say much more clearly now. "They're both completely aware of it."

"Still," the girl said, "You're manipulating them. I heard Taiko gush about your _investigating prowess_. They think you're some kind of hunter hero or something."

"First of all, 'prowess' is not in Taiko's vocabulary. Secondly, I never told them that, they assumed. Is it my fault the job is glamorous and draws fans?"

"He's right, Mai." That was, unmistakably, Takigawa's voice. "Girls do dig the danger element."

"Yeah—you were gaga for Naru for years. You can't deny it."

Naru frowned, shaking himself for getting caught up in their conversation. He reached for the handle again.

"WAS. Was gaga. And don't use that as an excuse to sleep with two girls at once."

"Well, Mai," another female voice broke in, this one belonging to Matsuzaki, "You are going out with a former client. He was impressed by your...ah, position—the job has its perks."

"Kauro is not—"

Monk's voice cut in, "Now you're just being stubborn—"

There was an abrupt silence as Naru stepped into the room, his face stunning them in its severity. It was a response the genius took full advantage of by looking at all of them in turn before making his way to the kitchen. He almost smiled at their abashed quiet; much better.

"Say, Naru," Yasuhara said, a grin in his voice, clearly ignoring his boss' irritation, "What do you think about the whole 'girls falling at your feet for being a paranormal researcher thing'?"

"Yasu," Mai groaned and Naru paused, unresponsive.

"Really," Yasuhara pressed and shot a pleased look in Mai's direction, "You must have taken advantage of it at some point, Boss." The Monk and Miko were snickering in the background, but his assistant was decidedly looking away from them, her face red and humorless. For some reason Naru felt grateful.

He fixed his iciest glare at Yasuhara, "I've found that I don't need my credentials to garner female attention. Perhaps you should consider a similar humility, Yasuhara."

"Humility?" Ayako scoffed, leaning back on the couch, "That's rich, coming from you."

Naru smirked. "I don't need to fabricate my talents like you do, Shrine Maiden. In fact," he crossed his arms, "Mai is the only one in the room who has not used posturing or occupation to procure the attention of the opposite sex." He realized the truth of the statement as soon as he said it and Mai gave him a smile, pleased at the rare compliment.

Yasuhara, recovering from the boss' insult gave him a knowing look, prompting Naru to continue, "Probably only because it's not worth bragging about."

"Hey!" the young woman exclaimed, "I work for you!"

"That's interesting," Naru said, walking back to the kitchen, "As you've been nothing but gossiping for the last half hour. What, exactly, am I paying you for?"

He didn't need to see her face to know that she was pink and aggravated. His own face concealed from his employees, Naru felt free to smile slightly as Mai fumed incoherently behind him.

Everything in its place…exactly how he liked it.

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* * *

…

"Yeah, I'm running a bit late, sorry. Is it still raining? I hate getting caught in it."

Naru collected his papers, not glancing at her and the inane phone conversation right outside the room. He looked over his materials, making sure not to have missed anything, absently listening to her light laugh.

"Hah! Don't, no. I'll be fine….yeah…yeah…that's nice of them…"

He picked up a book he'd forgotten about on his shelf—he didn't even remember owning it: _The Immaterial World. _Madoka had gotten it for him a few years ago and he'd never looked at it. He placed it in his bag, doubtful he'd actually read something that looked like far too much of a work of fiction.

"You worry too much…uh no….don't be silly…"

Naru glanced at his watch, half past six on a Tuesday; really time to go. He saw Mai fiddle with her skirt, phone on her shoulder. Why was she still here, when Lin had left half an hour ago? She was never one to stay very late. He'd pointed out this very flaw in her work ethic this very week—ah. Of course, this particular criticism she'd taken to heart. He sighed and picked up his bag and coat and made to turn off his lights.

"Ok…stop, really. I have to go…yeah, you too."

"If you want, I can supply you with a GPS tracker so in the future he'll know exactly where you are."

Mai turned to him, abashed, "Sorry, he's just…"

"Spare me," he said, walking past her and to the door. When she didn't join him, he turned back around and gave her an expectant look. Mai noticed and her eyes widened as she grabbed her jacket in a hurry to meet him. He realized that he hadn't offered to take her home in…well, years. He wasn't sure what was prompting him now.

"Oh, thanks. You don't…" but she trailed off at his frown. Lifting her chin slightly she stepped out ahead of him into the hallway, though Naru caught up easily. She hadn't grown much taller since she was sixteen, still had the same stride—lightly graceful with her long limbs, despite her predilection towards clumsiness. Her legs were bare except for light socks and slip-on shoes. It was a wonder she hadn't caught pneumonia, he thought, walking around like that in March; the girl really could be amazingly dense. Or perhaps just brazen in the face of practicality.

Mai shivered on the walk to the car, her light jacket doing her no service. Naru barely restrained an eye-roll.

"Get in," he ordered once at the vehicle, pulling a blanket from the back seat and handing it to her.

She stared at him, wide eyed, "Where…?"

"I'm a paranormal investigator," he said, "Trauma victims are common—and fear can make the extremities cold. No to mention that you've managed to fall in several bodies of water this year alone."

Rather than railing against him, Mai merely gaped. He tried to ignore her and concentrated on pulling out of the parking space (driving really wasn't his forte, not that he would admit it to anyone, except Lin. But that was only because he'd witnessed it firsthand) but her voice broke the silence. "You, ah, got it for me?"

He didn't like the soft tone in her voice, "If that's how you take my precautions." She really was a silly girl if _that_ meant something to her.

Mai didn't respond and Naru hoped that was the end of their conversation. The city traffic was fairly congested and they sat in silence for a long time, waiting at traffic lights. Much longer than he thought she'd be able to, actually. She was humming something softly, shinny fingernails beating a rhythm on her knees. Naru wondered if she was conscious of it. He'd seen her do the same thing several times in the office but never paid it much attention, always chalking it up to her astoundingly short attention span. The way her eyes were glazed as she stared out the window, an occasional lyric slipping out, he doubted she realized her audience.

She had a pleasant voice: clear and lilting, slightly twinged. Oddly enough, it reminded him of using his PK. Gene had always teased him for that analogy—that almost synesthesia, but Naru hadn't really known how else to describe it. Using his psychic abilities felt like striking notes, the right ones emitting a feeling and chord progression, and letting them vibrate from his lungs outward. Her singing made him remember the absence of his brother, and of his inability to use his psychic ability. Oddly, though, it wasn't unpleasant to remember. He had to, again, marvel at what six years could do.

The music stopped abruptly and Naru noticed that while he'd been looking at her, the traffic had moved. He shook his head of his transgressing thoughts.

"Is it difficult? Not getting to use your PK?"

Naru turned to her sharply. He'd noticed that her ability to intuit and read people had improved lately, but it had never been directed at him before. He'd thought himself unreadable and to find out otherwise was unsettling. Mai blushed at his expression, looking down at her orange-red fingernails. The color was childish and loud, just like the girl next to him.

"Yes," he said carefully, unsure why he was responding.

Mai didn't look pitying though. She merely nodded and gave him a small smile, "I wish I had control over my…abilities…the way you do."

Naru frowned, "Well, you didn't take my offer to get them tested—"

"I, uh…" she looked sheepish, "I didn't feel ready to do that then. I…"

She'd been eighteen when her abilities had become much more pronounced—post-cognition, seeing ghosts and spirits, transferring objects while unconscious—Naru had informed her that testing might be beneficial to her, and the scientific community at large. But Mai had been weary, reluctant even. She'd cited reasons of wanting to see about school, about what she wanted to study. And, despite the prompting of the others at SPR, Yasuhara in particular, Mai had ultimately refused. Naru always assumed it was her lack of interest in the field. He'd wondered though… if that was the case, why had she come back to SPR after Lin and he returned for the second time?

"But," her voice broke into his thoughts, "Maybe I should revisit that suggestion."

The cars on the road were moving faster now. "You should."

They rode in silence after that, Mai's new apartment further from the city than the last. He heard her phone sound a few times but she ignored it: her tapping had resumed, though this time he couldn't make out a song.

"Thanks. I know it was out of your way," she said when they arrived.

He didn't reply, merely giving a nod of acknowledgement as she placed the blanket in the seat and managed to get out of the car without falling, as he'd half expected, given how she was holding her skirt down from the wind. She gave him a small wave before closing the door and walking to her building.

He watched for a moment longer than necessary, but it wouldn't do to get her home safely only for something to happen outside the door, he reasoned. She was, after all, a misfortune magnet. But he needn't have worried because she'd obviously spotted someone and sped towards them. The guy was tall and grinned down at her and they embraced.

Naru drove off before he saw something he had no interest in.

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It was too hot—should not be so hot in early May.

Naru tried not to show his discomfort as he leaned back in the car seat, letting the air conditioning go to full (a rare occurrence). Lin, thankfully, didn't say anything, pulling away from the clients' house and making the way back to the office.

"Phew," Mai groaned, fanning herself with both hands and leaning over to them from the backseat, "That was so intense—and I don't mean the ghost. Who doesn't have climate control nowadays? I thought I was going to _boil_."

Naru glanced at her arms resting on their seat-backs, the purple color of her nails gripping the fabric. She really had childish taste in polish. "Get back in your seat and buckle up. You're giving off unnecessary heat, and endangering my insurance payment."

"Oh Naru," she said, voice flirty, "Don't tell me you find me—"

"Don't finish that," he deadpanned and narrowed his eyes at Lin's amused expression. The man really ought to be helping him more…after all, he'd complained about Mai's car manners as well.

"Fiiine," she blew out a breath, mint and something that could only be her shampoo filling the space next to his head. It was like a fruit, no maybe a plant—lavender or something. Naru shook his head, trying to clear it of this annoying train of thought.

"You know, Naru," she said again after only five minutes of blissful silence, "Maybe you should reconsider all that black in your wardrobe. Or wear short sleeves sometime." He turned his head in her direction and she grinned at him from the back seat, "Or shorts."

Lin snorted from the driver's side and Naru shot him a glare. "My attire is perfectly professional," he groused and looked back at her meaningfully.

She understood what was unsaid and merely rolled her eyes, arms crossing under her chest. Naru looked away, the gesture only further proving the problem of her attire. She was practically in a slip and had no right to complain about the heat.

"A tee-shirt wouldn't kill you," she muttered and returned to staring out the window.

Naru looked down at his arms and felt the stickiness of his skin; he couldn't remember the last time he'd thought about his clothes. Experimentally, he unbuttoned his cuffs, slowly rolling back the sleeves until they were up his forearms, his pale skin showered in the air-conditioned air. It surprised him, how much of a difference it made. He saw Lin smirking at him, but ignored it. The freeing sensation overshadowed being proven wrong.

When they reached the office to unload the equipment, Mai came up to him and brought a hand to his arm, just above the wrist. Startled, Naru looked up into a wide grin and glowing eyes. The back of his neck prickled.

"Much better," she proclaimed before grabbing a box from his hands and making her way inside.

Naru rubbed the back of his neck, where the skin was still sensitive and exceedingly warm. The heat was really taxing him.

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"I'm really uncertain to how I should respond to this."

"A yes would be preferable."

"Are you sure there's no one else?" It wouldn't do, after all, not to have all of his options verified.

"No," Lin sighed. He leaned back against his desk, "Though obviously I'm not going to force you."

Naru examined his assistant's face and saw, faintly, a trace of disappointment. As guarded as Lin was, Naru knew him for too long to be fooled by a seemingly stoic expression. Finally, he relented, "Alright."

Lin smiled and Naru saw the relief in his posture. "I'm not making a toast though," he said and smirked.

"That might be up to Madoka," Lin said.

Naru's mouth twitched, "You might not be prepared for the engagement you're getting yourself into."

"I've weighed my options," Lin smirked, "I think the benefits outnumber the detractors."

"Careful; you're applying reason to an unreasonable endeavor."

Lin grew somber, regarding his ward, "I don't think the heart is as illogical as you make it out to be, Noll. We are all susceptible to it. Best make peace that you'll have to work from inside its grip some day."

Naru watched as the man gave him a knowing look and a slight anxiousness crept into his stomach, unbidden. He suppressed it. "As long as it's what you want, Lin-san," he deflected.

The Chinese man smiled, simply and widely, "Very much so."

Naru thought of Gene and how it would undoubtedly be his twin accepting this request if he'd been alive, and how Lin wouldn't be positioned with someone who cared so little about the institution of marriage. Gene was suited for this, Naru was decidedly not—the world has never been less fair.

"Then I'll be honored to be best man," Naru said and tried to mean it.

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"May I come in?"

Naru looked up from his typing, surprised to see Mai standing hesitantly at his door, her hands clasped in front of her. Long years of practice had taught him to school his features into a neutral expression, which is what he projected as she made her way to his desk, despite the surprise of her entrance.

She seemed agitated, brushing her hair behind her ear. She had let it grow out a little lately, and it moved in waves of chestnut around her face, not quite brushing her shoulders. It made her appear slightly older and Naru was unsure whether he liked that or not. Mai rubbed her arm and he saw a flash of blue tipping her fingers, sparkling in the dim of his office. He leaned back slightly and waited for her to speak. She was so easy to read—clearly here to ask him for something. Naru forced away the mild irritation at her shyness—she was the antithesis of timid and had proven it repeatedly in her tenure at SPR. He hoped she wasn't using the trait in order to extract his goodwill…though that might be giving too much credit to her cunning, something she rarely displayed.

"I wanted to…" she seemed to take stock of herself, her chin lifting as she made some sort of decision. "I wanted to ask about studying my psychic abilities—getting them tested. You'd offered once and I was hoping you'd be willing to…" she trailed off again but this time it was not due to hesitation. She seemed to want him to infer her meaning.

Naru looked at her appraisingly. "Why now?"

Mai seemed prepared for the question because she gave a non-committal shrug that appeared far more nonchalant than he knew her to be. "They're much stronger now. I have visions every case, and I've even been able to astral project knowingly a few times."

Naru hid his surprise, "A few times?"

Mai nodded, "Yeah. Like the last case when John-san was in the tower, or a few weeks ago when Ayako found that old shrine—"

"And do you often omit this information from your boss?" he said, pointed.

The girl, however, appeared unabashed, "It hadn't mattered at the time. It's not like it helped; we solved the cases because of Masako and Bou-san."

Naru narrowed his eyes, anger rising, "We are paranormal investigators. Has it not occurred to you that paranormal activities that are transpiring during a case should be under our research? You are not the final word on what is _worth_ looking into."

The brunette flushed under his gaze but refused to appear contrite, "I would have said something if I'd thought it was important."

"Like we should trust that," Naru scoffed, "How many times have you downplayed your instincts, sometimes leading others into danger through the omission? You don't have any faith in your abilities and are never forthcoming—"

"And why should I be?" she said, indignant, "You downplay and mock my _animal instincts_ constantly! Your derision for them—and my intelligence—might be one reason I didn't speak up, you know!"

Naru watched her, his anger coiling into something else, just as vicious. It tasted vaguely of guilt. He tried not to dwell on it. "Then it seems like I was right, doesn't it? If you were smart you would have disclosed this information."

Mai grew rigid, her eyes cutting into him with something he was not familiar when it came to his willful, optimistic assistant: fury. "Well you know everything then," she said and Naru watched as she swallowed, her pale throat undulating with the motion. He looked away from her and waited for the slam of a door…but it didn't come.

He drew his attention forward again and nearly growled at her, "Well?"

"I would like to train my psychic abilities," she said calmly and Naru could not help the surprise that was showing on his face. That she still wanted to pursue that, given her earlier words, was baffling. None of it made sense to him, actually. Had she not refused the first time?

"Why did you say no before?" The question was unlike him; Oliver Davis was not interested in the personal motivations of his employees.

There was a long silence before Mai would meet his eyes and he was surprised to see her looking so…lost. Mai was never lost—confused, sure, unknowledgeable on occasion, but never lost. "I…" she cleared her throat, "I didn't think it was a good idea then. Because of my feelings."

Seconds passed. Naru blinked at her, a loud buzzing occupying his hearing.

She must have taken his silence as confusion because she continued, "I thought it would be dangerous to be around you…I was young and foolish and in love. It would have been a disaster to have around." She gave a small smile and it was the first he'd seen from her since she'd entered the room. "I had to be practical and think about my future…apart from you."

The smile was still there and it was strange how that little slip of mouth did more to disarm him than the entire conversation up to this point. "Reasonable," he found himself saying, "To consider your own interests."

Mai nodded absently, her fingers playing something on her thigh, "I'm doing so now. I don't think teaching is for me—I want to pursue this. I like my work and…" she looked up at him, "I'd like to improve."

Some of the tension had eased from his shoulders at her admission and he regarded her carefully, "And you're up for it this time?" Underneath his statement, she seemed to understand, was another question.

She smiled, self assured now, "Yes. It won't be a problem."

Despite her humor Naru felt something settle itself in his chest. He wondered at it and hoped that his confidence in her abilities was not fading. Yes that was just doubt, Naru reasoned, because it couldn't be that he was disappointed at her words. Surely, there was nothing more aggravating than an amorous girl wafting about him. He'd been relieved, he knew, when she'd resolved her infatuation with his looks after Gene had crossed. Naru should be—and was, his mind insisted—glad that this was no longer an issue.

And he hadn't expected it to be an issue for him at all he thought, annoyed at the doubtful sensation, still lingering: she'd had boyfriends for years now and he hadn't cared. The heavy workload was just getting to him—these thoughts were irregular and the product of a weeks worth of insomnia.

Naru brought himself out of his stupor, "I'll contact the head facility as soon as I can. I'm sure there's some tests we can run here in the meantime."

"That would be—thank you," she said, her voice happy and she gave a slight bow, "I appreciate it."

"Of course."

He watched her disappear through the door and stared, unblinking, back at his screen when she had. Hieroglyphics stared back at him, undecipherable, no matter how much he forced his mind back to the task.

…

To be continued…

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A/N: Please leave me a review—it would mean a lot! Thanks for reading.

-Em


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the positive feedback everyone; I'll try not to be devastated if I don't meet up to expectations (and hopefully you will too). Every follow, favorite, and review has meant the world. Please enjoy the next part.

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**Resonance**

Part II

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The monitor flickered, a streak of static spiking over the screen before everything normalized. John leaned over the table, brow furrowed, "Oh my, what was that?"

Naru watched the feed and rewound before shaking his head, "I'm not certain. But the temperature readings show no congruent drop, usually indicating a spirit."

The young priest looked thoughtful, "Didn't the homeowner say something about the second floor and how she'd hear static every time before something sounded like it fell from—"

"The stairs," Naru finished, annoyed at having missed that information. Clearly, it was happening in a different room.

He was already walking out of base at the realization, the priest closely behind him. Thankfully, the house wasn't exceptionally large and they were at the bottom of the grand staircase in seconds. Just as they reached the landing, they were interrupted by the slamming open of a door.

"Don't move!"

For a moment Naru imagined the words coming from his own mouth but there were yelled from a voice above them: Mai leaning over the railing of the stairs, head shaking back and forth. "Hold on—I have this."

"What are you doing?" Naru demanded. He spotted Lin coming into the hallway and shot his assistant a look. Lin nodded his understanding, his shiki at the ready. Naru turned his attention back to Mai as she appeared to be having a conversation with something he couldn't see—the spirit, most likely.

She turned back to them, signaling reassurance with a raised hand. "Really, Naru," she said as Masako appeared behind her, eyes wide as she withdrew her casted foot and stilled behind Mai. Naru tensed. He'd told Masako not to go anywhere without Takigawa, who didn't appear to be anywhere in the vicinity. In her condition, the last thing they needed was for her to be left unattended in a haunted house. Or with the ever-impulsive Mai.

"Is that…?" the medium's voice sounded above the banging that had started on the stairs. Lin and Naru exchanged glances and the Chinese man shook his head slightly, indicating that there was nothing he could see.

"Yes. But he's ready to leave," Mai said, answering Masako's question. Louder, she said, "John-san, Naru, just give me a moment."

"What is going on?"

Naru felt John's hand on his arm and realized he'd been about to move up the stairs and took stock of himself. Absently, he wondered when his employees had started to listen to Mai's directives.

Before he had time to charge away from the priest's grasp, a bright white glow overtook the second floor landing, illuminating Mai's crouched pose and Masako's wide eyes. Just as suddenly, the light was gone and the young brunette straightened and expelled an exaggerated breath of air. She grinned before offering Masako her arm, leading the medium down the stairs as quickly as her cast would allow.

Naru drew his mouth into a tight line, refusing to say anything until she explained herself. Mai caught his glare and gave one of her own before helping the medium the rest of the way to the foyer. Masako slowly made her way forward, "Don't be angry at Mai, Naru. She was only trying to put the boy to rest after he appeared."

Naru shot the dark-haired woman a look, turning back to his stubborn assistant, "And when did you figure the spirit was a boy? The last homeowner's son, I take it?"

"Just a few minutes ago," Mai said, her own arms crossed, "I'd just pieced it together when he showed up—I had a vision."

"And you couldn't inform one of us?" Naru wasn't entirely sure why he felt as angry as he did, but he supposed that he didn't like her insubordinate attitude. Or that she seemed completely dismissive of the danger she'd put them in.

"I didn't want to leave him," Mai defended, "And I wasn't going to let Masako go wandering with a broken leg. Besides, I would have yelled if I needed help—"

"How reassuring," Naru sneered, "And need I remind you that you caused that broken leg on our last exorcism?"

Mai's face was red, "That's not true and you know it. It was an accident. I couldn't have predicted that water had filled up the hallway—"

"But you did lead the charge after the ghost, without warning I might add—"

"I was closest! I didn't think—"

"That's not news."

"Davis-san," John interrupted gently and the young man was forced to remind himself that they had an audience, "Can we have this conversation elsewhere? I believe that the homeowners are coming now."

Naru looked at the medium and then Lin, who was frowning slightly, and gave a dismissive nod, "It's fine. We'll resume this later. Go find Matsuzaki and Takigawa."

John gave him a small smile before exiting with Masako, Lin soon following.

"Can we talk?"

Naru brought his attention back to the brunette and tried not to show his caustic feelings; he had not meant to engage in such a childish back and forth and fought to control his temper. He walked to the adjacent room and waited for Mai to follow him, which she did soundlessly.

"Naru?" she said when he didn't speak and Naru turned to looked at her. "I'm sorry," Mai said softly, "I know you don't want to be left out of the loop and I promise to—"

Naru raised his eyebrow, "You think this is about wanting to be in charge?" He pushed aside the fact that he'd used the same explanation to himself mere moments before.

"And I'm sorry for compromising Masako's safety—and mine," Mai added. She looked sincere and contrite and Naru knew he should leave it at that. It didn't make sense to feel agitated. They've been doing this for years, and every one of his employees had messed up or compromised their safety at some point or other. It was just that lately he'd been more _aware_ of Ma—of Mai's blunders.

He regarded her: she'd snaked a hand to her elbow, her feet shuffling from side to side and Naru recognized it for the nervous gesture it was. She was barelegged again and he could see two brightly cartooned bandages on her pale shins. The sight was amus—_childish_, he corrected quickly. Ridiculous.

"That spirit could have been violent," he said, recovering his momentary lapse, "You shouldn't be "handling" this without articulating your deductions first."

"But…" Mai bit her lip, seemingly struggling with something.

Naru frowned, "What is it?"

"But I _did_ know," she said carefully. She stopped and looked at him in earnest, "I mean, I don't know _how_, but even before the vision I could just sense he was…good. Not violent."

The statement took him by surprise and Naru scrutinized her for a moment, considering her words. "You mean you could read the spirit?"

Mai nodded slowly, "I…I guess. There was just nothing…_off_ about him. He was healthy—good."

So she was a reader. Of course, it made sense, given her ability to intuit emotions, even her occasional telepathic capabilities. Still, to have this just develop—

The scientist narrowed his eyes, "How long have you been able to do this?"

He could see her hesitation. "Er…in a way? Always," she said, "I just didn't really _think_ about it before. I just did it. I didn't know it was, you know, _psychic._"

Naru felt that anger again, but it wasn't directed at her this time. Regarding Mai's slightly weary posture, the way her eye-lashes cast a shadow on her cheeks as she looked away, made her look so young that he was thrown back in time. In his mind's eye he saw Gene and himself in the orphanage, budding and unsure of their powers, isolated and chastised for doing that which they had no control over. There had been no one to help or explain anything before Martin and Luella adopted them…and here he was—had been—able, but uncommunicative with someone who was in a similar position.

_That'd not true_, Naru tried to defend: he'd tried to once and she'd refused. But—she'd come back to SPR after that, her burgeoning powers evident to everyone, himself included, and he'd concretely avoided getting involved. Had not wanted that distraction, he supposed, or perhaps…. Naru forced himself to stop analyzing it further. That kind of thinking was not productive; the past was that, past.

Mai was still waiting for his response. "I think testing needs to start as soon as possible," he said.

Mai's eyes widened, "I thought you wouldn't have the equipment for at least another month…"

"There are other tests," he said, "Ones involving your clairvoyance and telepathic abilities. We'll start next week."

She nodded and looked pleased, a relieved breath escaping her. Naru found her enthusiasm unfortunate. "It might be difficult for you. It requires a lot of scrutiny, and a lot of will."

Mai simply shrugged,"I figured. I'm not afraid of some work."

Naru remembered his own testing—the white coats and sterile labs and electrodes. He also remembered the objectification; only Gene's presence had comforted him during those early years in the facilities.

With a sigh, Naru suppressed the thought and let his eyes slip from their direct contact with Mai's. If he was going to do this, he'd have to start thinking of her as a subject instead of…well, he'd just have to be much more objective. It would be good for all of them, he concluded, if he refrained from this recent involvement into subjective reaction. He was straying dangerously from the established pattern of things, the scientific approach was necessary to regain his mental faculties.

Naru found himself nodding, voice clinical. "That's good."

…

* * *

...

"Alright, final card."

He could almost imagine her nod, "Okay."

There was a long silence as he focused his attention on the slip in front of him. After a moment Naru heard a sigh and he could picture the brunette leaning back in her seat as she stared at the ceiling in frustration. When he turned he was gratified with the exact pose he'd predicted, save that real Mai seemed much wearier in the dim light of the office. When she noticed him standing she met his eyes, extending the answer sheet to him, "I don't think it's working."

Naru took the paper and looked over the slanted writing carefully. After a minute he nodded, "Reading this, one would assume you're about as psychic as a cucumber."

"Naru," Mai growled and Naru found himself looking at her throat for a half second, the sound oddly hypnotic—he frowned. So she'd made a growl, he thought, it only proved his animal comparisons.

Startled by what she assumed was a reaction to her mind-reading performance, Mai shot up from her seat, apologetic, "Sorry, I know it's probably annoying and a waste of time that I can't do it. We can try again if you—"

"Stop," he said, taking a step away from her fumbling words, "The test might not account for something, or your abilities could perhaps work differently than those of other psychics. The use of Zener cards has, in fact, never been a very supported means of gauging telepathy." He looked up again, "How do you usually read thoughts?"

Mai bit her lip, "I really don't know. So much of the time it just…happens."

Naru leaned against his desk, crossing his arms, "You must stop considering things as you know them or have done them prior to this." He paused, "Think instead as a researcher looking over your past experiences as individuated occurrences: what do you notice? What comes to mind? We can establish pattern and testing from there."

Mai was nodding, sitting back down in her seat with a thoughtful look on her face. "Well," she said, "I usually hear…thoughts…when I'm close to the person."

Naru straightened, "You mean physically? There have been reports of psychics needing to touch the person in order to forge connections…of course, this is often discredited as muscle reading." He paused at Mai's confused look and explained, "It's a manner of reading a person by the signals they give off physically, first shown by Washington Bishop in the late 19th century. It's akin to a high level of body language observation."

Naru paused, "However, my phsychometry works with objects handled by the subject, after all. I can only see what they do if I have physical contact with an item."

Mai looked at him intensely for a moment and he realized this was the first time he'd shared anything about his abilities directly with her. She didn't seem surprised and Naru surmised that much of her knowledge of…him…came either from observation or others, perhaps Lin or Gene in the past. "I don't know," she coughed, bringing his focus back to the conversation, "I do have to be nearby, usually no more than a few feet. But I don't know if…touch…helps."

Naru nodded, "That should be something we consider then."

Mai was looking at him, her brow slightly furrowed, "There's something else. In the past I'd have to be…" she paused, hand to her forehead, "I don't know how to describe it; on the same wavelength with someone?"

Naru looked at her, interested, "How do you mean?"

"Er," Mai sighed. She got up and walked to the window, frustration heavy in her tone, "I guess I had to be in the right mood—their mood? Almost like, I was feeling and thinking the same things they were." She brushed her hair behind her ear and looked at him, "Like, I once read Ayako during our first case and it was because both of us were afraid and tense and in the same situation. And another time I knew Masako's thoughts when we were in a fight and I heard her think, 'She doesn't even know how good she has it' and I'd had a similar feeling a few minutes before…" Mai stopped and seemed to be waiting for his response.

"Wavelength." He hadn't even realized he'd said it aloud until he saw Mai's confused expression. "That's good thinking," he said, retrieving his computer and typing in the information, "When you'd read mine in the car you must have been feeling…saddened or perhaps reading the tension of the 'room' so to speak…" He was talking to himself somewhat absently as he dwelled on this new information, "A level of intuition that perhaps matches itself to emotional chemicals excreted by the body? Akin to animals sensing fear or danger in others. Not a terrible hypothesis, given her ability to intuit. Intuitive telepathy perhaps, retrocognative certainly, maybe even emotive…"

As he continued writing he didn't notice that Mai had stepped very near him until she spoke, "I _read_ you?"

Naru looked at her, his writing momentarily suspended. Mai's eyes were staring at him intently, one hand back to rubbing her forearm. Her pale arms were inches away from touching his side; he could see the white of her knuckles and the slightly pinked flesh of her fingers. She was stiff and seemed to be struggling with something.

"Yes," he confirmed, unusually distracted, "When you knew the difficulty of not using my PK. The night I drove you home."

Mai's lips parted slowly, "I didn't…I didn't think I could read you."

Naru set his laptop on the desk and stepped away from her, trying to clear his head. She seemed to be taking something from his words that he was not aware of. Naru wasn't used to feeling out of the loop and tried to think about what could possibly be affecting her, replaying their earlier conversation, "Why would you not be able to?"

Her face was oddly pink when she mumbled, "Just it's…_you_. Your mind works differently than other people's. You're just, well, brilliant." Naru blinked, unused to such offhand praise from her. Mai blushed even harder, "I just never thought I could ever…understand any of the things you did or feel even slightly like…uh, sorry. I don't know what I'm saying."

Her agitation seemed to have spread to her fingers which here, once again, tapping out something on her thighs. For some reason, Naru wanted to correct her, tell her that despite his claims to the contrary, she was not so unlike him. That, in fact, sometimes he did wonder if she understood better than she knew. But then he looked away and dismissed the unusual sentimentality as quickly as it had occurred. His preoccupation with the new hypothesis must be discombobulating him.

Presently, Naru watched as Mai seemed to collect her thoughts, stumbling slightly as she distanced herself from his desk, "It doesn't matter. I'll let you get back to your writing now. We can test again next week." Her eyes widened as she seemed to realize that she was already at the door, the handle at her back. She gave him a weak smile, "Uh, thank you for all your help."

With another quick goodnight she was out of the room and then out of the office, the echo of the door still vibrating in the front hall. Naru stared at the vacated space for several seconds, his mind uncertain and his chest oddly tight. It unsettled him that after years of dealing with the supernatural, this might be the most inexplicable encounter he'd had.

…

* * *

...

"Well, that was the most disgusting exorcism to date."

"Oh, I don't know Yasu," Takigawa said thoughtfully, wiping swamp water from his face, "I seem to remember that one on the farm, with the earthquake—animal scat _everywhere."_

"Oh lovely," Akako muttered, "Excrement talk again." She called out to Mai, who was walking ahead of them with Lin and carrying bags that looked far too heavy for her, "Wait up."

"I would," Mai said, glancing at her as they made their way through the muddy forest, "But I just want to get back as soon as possible and _shower_."

Ayako grunted her agreement, picking at her now-brown shirt, "Lucky Masako gets to miss this."

Mai smiled ruefully, darting a look at Naru ahead of them, "I think she ducked out beforehand for that very reason."

The miko's eyes widened, "How did she know it would be…this gross?"

Mai looked away, cheeks pink, "Er…"

Ayako scowled, "You had a vision, didn't you?" Neither seemed to notice their boss slowing his pace.

"Yeah," Mai sounded abashed, "It was just a short visual when the client came to the office but Masako all but scrambled away after I told her."

"Coward," the shrine maiden said, shaking her head.

Yasuhara caught up to them, gleaning off his glasses, "I don't know about you guys, but I could use a drink."

Ayako gave a nod, "Now that you mention it. It _has _been a pretty crap week."

"Yeah, I'm in," Monk said, "What do you say, Lin? Boss?"

Lin surprised them by giving a slight nod of assent...until Mai noticed that his entire front seemed to be soaked with what looked like liquid sludge; his shiki _had_ done a lot of the work. Naru stood a little bit away from them, about to give a scathing response, but Mai's voice interrupted him.

"You guys wouldn't mind if I brought Kauro, would you?"

"Not at all," Yasu said with a grin, "Been dying finish that conversation I started with him last time—"

"Don't you dare!" Mai scowled and Naru was once again paying far more attention to his employees than he wanted to. Quieter, Mai said, "You know he's not really into the supernatural stuff that we are…"

Everyone exchanged looks at Mai's words and Naru felt an overwhelming urge to say something. Thankfully, Yasuhara's inquisitiveness prevented him from having to.

"'Supernatural stuff'?" Yasu said, "He knows you're an investigator, right? He was a _client _of ours when you met him. How could he not be 'into supernatural stuff'?"

Mai staunchly avoided their eyes, "Well, I mean, he's just skeptical. And," her face flushed, "he, er, just thinks I'm an assistant. Like a secretary. I told him about my abilities but I think he thinks I'm exaggerating."

There was a silence and it took a moment for Naru to realize it was because everyone, save for Mai, was looking at him expectantly. Naru frowned and kept his face forward as they walked; what did they expect him to say? It was not his problem that Mai's taste in men left a lot to be desired.

Exasperated, Ayako gave him a look before turning to Mai, "He shouldn't be so dismissive of your abilities, you know."

Mai shrugged and kept walking, "It's not a big deal—we never really talk about it anyway. I don't ask about his job and does the same." She grinned, "Now come on, I can smell Monk's stink from here."

"Hey! Have some respect for your betters!"

Ayako took Mai's hint and directed her attention to Takigawa as they walked, "You mean elders, not betters, right?"

"You should talk."

"Why you insufferable, annoy—"

Mai smiled and worked to keep up with her friends, promising herself to thank Ayako later for letting the conversation go. Her thoughts were interrupted by something in her periphery and Mai turned only to find Naru walking next to her. She opened her mouth to say something, perhaps about his stealth, but he beat her to it.

"Give me a bag."

Her mouth dropped open as if to speak, but when she didn't respond, Naru grabbed a strap from her shoulder, settling it on his own. Wordlessly he passed on ahead, leaving a still-gaping Mai wondering at his unusually kind gesture.

…

* * *

...

Oliver Davis was not easily deterred from self-created schedules, which he considered, above all, the proper exercising of mental acuity. It was something that needed to be trained and developed; he had not gotten a doctorate at seventeen by letting his brain stay complacent and sedentary, after all.

It's just that he felt slightly off kilter lately…he hated even describing it as such. Naru detested unspecific wording, hated discussing subjective _feelings_ and vague supposition. He watched his cursor blinking on the screen. His fingers would not move.

Somewhere, somehow, the almost imperceptible momentum he'd established for himself was changing. Some obstruction was there, was throwing him off his preconceived course.

More than a little annoyed at his sudden lapse into inane metaphor, Naru stood and walked out of his office and into Lin's.

"I'm going out," he said without preamble.

The tall man looked at him, bewildered, "It's Sunday."

"Yes."

"You detest weekend commotion in Shibuya."

"Yes," Naru sighed, "I can't work."

Lin's eyes widened imperceptibly and Naru hated the admittance and that he was causing Lin to have to wonder at his behavior. He turned back around and walked to the door before he regretted his impulse, "I trust I can go unescorted?"

Lin nodded absently, before realizing Naru couldn't see it, "Yes." As an afterthought he added, "Have fun." It wouldn't do, after all, not to press on the absurdity of Noll's actions.

A growl accompanied the slamming of the door.

…

* * *

...

She was there.

_Of course_ she was there.

Weekends in the city were made for daft girls in good spirits to flit about and giggle and shop or whatever they did. She did not look out of place there either, watching the passerby's: Mai was created for this scene…her yellow dress bright as the sun, shopping bags at her feet, air of amusement around her like incandescent light. Colorfully dressed people were milling around her, music was playing somewhere at the end of the street, commotion and laughter everywhere: everything was so trivial…and so completely in place with her standing there.

It was in direct opposition to Naru, sullen and dark some distance away. The summer heat hung around him oppressively, searing into his dark clothes, whereas she seemed to be basking in some current that was rearranging her hair and the hemline of her daffodil skirt. She was scanning the crowd, pale neck extended as she sought whatever it was that occupied her mind. Waiting, no doubt, on the boyfriend to meet her, perhaps for ice-cream or one of the recent blunders that passed as popular cinema nowadays.

Un-beckoned, a scowl fixed itself on Naru's face as a rush of anger overwhelmed him.

He watched her smile at a nearby child waving a hand and suddenly he had the urge to go to her and shake her—demand to know why she had to be so silly and carefree. How she could just exist in the world, so full of unpleasant things and not let it get to her? How could she be so recklessly bright and determined in the face of these ridiculous social mores? And why would she ever choose the unhappy fate of death and possession and ghosts when she could have the bliss and pleasure of _this_…where he had never belonged but she was more than suited for?

Unheeded, Naru's mind continued the logical progression of his agitated inquiry: why choose his life when she had every advantage of spirit and nerve to live out the rest of her days with others whom she could joke and dance and love in the excessive and demonstrative way that she sought?

Alarmed at the progression of his thoughts, Naru realized that he'd overstepped mental boundaries that he'd erected for a reason. They were there to never feel self-pity or to wish on a way of being that was, to him, as inaccessible as a bear wanting to be a moth. He liked himself, he liked his routine, Naru insisted.

_Then why do you hate her for hers?_

Naru was, if nothing else, an uncompromisingly logical person, and in that illuminated instance he had no choice but to be reasonable in the face of his epiphany: hatred was a sign of envy, of dissatisfaction. Hatred meant quite, quite the opposite.

Across the city square, wide brown eyes chose that very moment to meet his own and Naru felt shock akin to being drenched in cold water. He wasn't sure if was from his realization or from the recognition in Mai's eyes, but he had never felt less in control of the firm grip he usually had on his emotions. Because, in that moment, Naru felt what could only be described as his heart stuttering in his chest. Their eyes held.

Something alien but familiar slipped itself into his mind and he heard Mai's voice clearly in his consciousness, full of concern and wonder: _Naru?_

Without a second glance, Naru turned and retreated into the crowd.

...

tbc...


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: So this goes a bit angsty. Hmm, that Naru. Still, I hope you enjoy, because, well, it just felt right to me. A big thank you to everyone who'd liked and review this-please keep doing so. It's the only motivation to keep it up ;)

* * *

.

Part III

.

...

It's at the end of the summer that it always hits him acutely, perhaps because the old adages about seasons changing, summer to autumn, are the exact metaphors one uses for remembrance, and Naru uses for death.

Standing near the water in the late afternoon, that just-begun taste of fall in the gust, Naru remembers his brother's body being pulled from right here half a dozen years ago now. He remembers the police and flashing lights and the physical wound his body seemed to make at the realization that _this was it. _That this was the last concrete thread he'd ever have of Gene. It was like knowing his brother was dead all over again, except this time…this time it was absolute.

The grief is still fresh when he comes here, which is why he only does it once a year.

It's not the anniversary of Gene's death, or the anniversary of the body's discovery. No, this ritual is one Naru had chosen himself because summer had always been _theirs_, _their_ best memories—the warm evenings on the orphanage grounds, looking for stones to throw into the worn back fence, the later explorations of London with their adoptive parents, the long days of Noll studying by the small grove of trees in their backyard as Gene tried (and occasionally succeeded) in distracting his reading. Even with their disparate personalities, and even with Noll's studious nature, Gene had made summers his official campaign to get Oliver out of the house, to "stop being so bloody boring!", to see something that his "books couldn't teach". Ever indulgent to his twin, and even slightly nostalgic for their childhood isolation for some reason, Naru had usually acquiesced to some goofing off (which he made up for by staying up late and studying of course). It amounted to little more than excursions into the city, treks to the lake, or (Gene's favorite) the arcade, but they were the fondest recollections Naru had.

It was only fitting, then, that the summer's end be for Gene. The sadness that overtook Naru now felt like more than grief for his brother—it was bitterness: summers, his summers, would not be for such pleasures anymore. And not least of all because he had important deadlines to consider; a career to uphold.

This new publication has been a long time coming—too long, the facility and his editor had chided. He hadn't written more than a few papers in the last couple of years and his publisher had been antsy that he finally finish his book: case studies, of sorts, that he'd been compiling since starting SPR. Now, almost at the cusp of finalizing his draft, Naru stood anxious, agitated.

_And I wonder why that is_, he thought, watching a few birds swoop low to the water's edge. They skimmed close over the surface before lifting back up, like a dusting of dark seeds. He knew why that was: Mai.

It was a wonder it had not dawned on Naru earlier, given his new…_awareness_…of his assistant_, _but much (too much) of his manuscript involved her. From her discoveries and dreams, her intuition and powers, even spirit attraction to her, his book was littered with analysis of the psychic young woman. It might as well be called _Mai Tanyama: A Personal Inquest_. He gave a snort: his publishers would surely love that.

Mai was beginning—no, had _always been_—a thorn in his side and Naru could make peace with having feelings for her if it wasn't that she was now slipping into his _work_. It was not to be borne. He had to definitively…

Naru paused, his pulse quickening. Had he just…?

_Oh the hell with it_, his mind ruthlessly assessed, _you care. You know you care, now get on with it_. Never a fan of mild symptoms of schizophrenia, Naru rubbed the bridge of his nose, deliberating. Logic. Logic. Logic was best.

Cautiously, with no little amount of trepidation, Naru gave in and thought it point blank, the fear he'd been harboring since his run in with her_ mind_ that afternoon is Shibuya: _I care for Mai._

He looked around. Save for the birds fluttering and a fisherman throwing a line down by the trees, nothing out of the ordinary occurred at his admission. Gathering his thoughts once more he thought: _I care for Mai, and it is interfering with my work_.

Again, nothing happened at the deliberate pronouncement, only that his heart was merciless in his chest, and he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, finally relaxing a fraction. _I care for Mai, and it is interfering with my work, and I must resolve to fix this situation because it's unsatisfactory._

Perhaps romantic feelings were not as dire as he'd originally surmised; after all, his logic was still intact. He was still completely capable of ration. Naru stuck his hands in his pockets as the wind picked up. _This only left two courses of action, _Naru concluded, making a quick assentation of the problem and moving right into possible solutions.

The first was to tell Mai his feelings; the second was to say nothing.

The former he disregarded almost instantly for a variety of reasons, not least of which because she did not feel the same way, already had a boyfriend, and would undoubtedly cause his work (and life) more undue turmoil if the first two things weren't factors and they began seeing each other. Thusly dismissed, Naru turned to the second option: say nothing…and frowned. It was not so much a choice as it was keeping things the same, and that wouldn't do. It had to be a way for things to change, for him to resolve this problem.

It was unlikely that he could stop feelings by sheer force of will, Naru reasoned, or by attempting to recede further into his work—neither was likely to be effective long term, and he wanted this fixed sooner rather than later. The idea of a different kind of distraction was dismissed as easily as it occurred: dating another girl would be cumbersome, annoying, and likely interfere with his job anyway. Might as well date Mai, he rolled his eyes.

Which left, what, exactly?

Logic, logic.

Naru stood and pondered long after the sun had set.

…

* * *

...

He had avoided Mai fairly deftly since their non-verbal encounter in downtown Shibuya but, somehow, it was beginning to take its toll. For one thing, it meant no tea.

Correction, it meant no tea from Mai, which, as that was all he was used to at this point, meant basically the same thing. She'd returned after a week of him telling her that she didn't need to come into the office—that there wasn't much work to be had—and even in that short reprieve it had agitated him not to have the tea (and Mai) around.

Secondly, it meant unnecessary avoidances that felt far too practiced, false and that he did not enjoy. Not communicating with the brunette was relatively easy, even after her return (though he must have discounted exactly how much more he'd been speaking to her over the last couple of months, as opposed to when she started. Naru wondered if it was as jarring to her as it was to him). And even coming in early and leaving late were fine—but cancelling their sessions was proving to be a point of guilt and he disliked having to suspend what would only be beneficial for her abilities.

Naru knew he couldn't keep it up the moratorium on their testing for long, but tried to use the time to try to subdue his feelings.

It was a work in progress.

"Naru?" Mai said and he did definitely _not_ notice that the way that she said his name was rather pleasant—lilting, soft—because that's something a simpleton would think.

He turned to her and she brushed her hair back, a bejeweled clip visible on one side of her head. "Yes?"

"I've been doing some research on telepathy," she said and it took Naru by surprise enough that he stopped focusing on her hair, the soft shine of it, "I was hoping you could give me some other materials." She smiled, "The Internet's not really…reliable."

Naru dragged his eyes away from her and glanced at the shelf behind him, coming away with a few tomes and an old research paper of his, "This shouldn't be too complicated for you…" He saw her frown before he'd even finished his sentence and found himself faltering. "They're less technical," he clarified.

Mai seemed surprised, then suddenly pleased. She gave him a wide grin. Only years of stoicism had trained him not to show his flinch. "Thank you."

She reached for the books and Naru almost threw them at her when her fingers (green tipped nails) brushed his, causing that twitch in his jaw to become more pronounced. She smiled when she left, but he wouldn't respond.

He wouldn't.

"Mai, more tea."

It just couldn't continue.

…

* * *

...

"Madoka, I assure you that there is nothing meant for you in my closet."

The woman in question ignored him, furiously looking through the hanging garments and muttering under her breath. He would honestly have to speak to Lin about letting his _fiancé_ randomly accost his property on arbitrary mornings, barging into their apartment as if she were invited and forcing Naru to trail after her demented errands. Today being a brilliant example.

Naru closed his eyes, annoyed, putting out his arm to stop her from her rummaging. In his experience, sometimes the only way to stop his persistent ex-mentor was to physically bar her from her line of interest. "Madoka," he said again, slightly mollified when she paused and looked at him, large eyes intense.

"Noll," she returned, a small frown on her face, "I see nothing but black in there."

"How observant, as that is my preferred color of attire."

Madoka drew her mouth into a line and Naru was vaguely reminded of his younger days, when she had the ability to frighten him with one glance, "You are not attending a wedding of _mine_ dressed more dourly than a mortician." She blew out a breath, pushing past him to gain access to the closet again, "If I don't find something suitable I _will_ take you suit shopping, and you will stand there and be measured inseam to—"

Naru immediately reached past her probing arms and pulled out a small assortment of clothes, ignoring Madoka's infuriating and triumphant smile. Suit shopping was not an option in any realm of reality and if it came to it, he would back out of any best man duties in order to avoid it. Lin would forgive him…in a few decades…but it would be worth it.

Madoka made a happy noise akin to a warble and placed the items on his bed. She tapped a casual finger against her chin, giving him a sly smile, "So not all black, huh Dr. Davis? I see blues, and a bit of green and is that _red?"_

"Madoka," he said sharply, "Just select something appropriate and be done with it."

Ignoring him, she held up the red shirt in question, "And where did you get this saucy number?"

Naru drew his mouth into a line, "Luella sent me some of Gene's shirts. Now if you don't mind—"

"Well he had good taste," Madoka said softly and Naru looked at her for a long moment, his irritation gone. She seemed to shake herself out of it, picking up a deep blue button-down, "I like this. It suits you."

"Nothing suits me," he said, weary, "They're just clothes."

"Then why wear black?" she said, infuriatingly logical. Naru scowled, but his temper had receded. "Will you wear it?" she asked.

He was mildly confused, "That's why I'm allowing you to do this, isn't it?"

Madoka smiled prettily, but there was something else in her face too, "I know. It's just that sometimes people want a verbal cue, Noll, so they don't have to read into everything you do just to know what you're thinking."

Naru's jaw clenched, "And to what are you referring to now?"

He half expected her to roll her eyes, her usual MO, but she regarded him impassively. It was a minute before she spoke again, "You know, you've always been the more sensitive twin."

Whatever he'd expected, it wasn't that. He was momentarily too surprised to speak and tried to regain his composure, "Hardly. Gene was extremely caring—much more so than me."

Madoka shook her head, taking a seat on his bed, "Gene was expressive though, that's for sure." She laughed suddenly, "Do you remember how he acted when he met Calvin Quinn? He practically shook the poor doctor's arm off he was so excited to meet his hero…and then he nearly talked his _ear_ off all during that committee dinner."

Despite himself, Naru smiled, remembering the evening—how Gene had been star-struck by the researcher having dinner at "_their_ house". "When I'd tried to introduce myself Dr. Quinn backed up so fast he almost broke Luella's china cabinet," Naru said, "He thought I was Gene, back for a second interview."

Madoka suppressed her laughter, "Yeah. Gene knew how to make an impression." After a moment she shook herself out of it, "But that's my point. Gene was…passionate. Excitable. You…you've always been more understanding, deep, more perceptive."

Naru looked at her, unsure what to say and feeling like a teenager again, when Madoka's assessments always left him wondering if she did not posses supernatural intuition. He cleared his throat; "Some would accredit that to high intellect and logic, not to feeling."

"Well those individuals don't know you," Madoka said and her eyes seemed misty, "I always thought it was a shame, the way you seemed happy to pass off all of those good traits on Gene and take the more difficult on for yourself. "

Naru wanted to look away, to ask her to stop talking, but he was having a hard time keeping her words out, or voicing his thoughts. She seemed to understand his agitation because she gave a small smile of reassurance, "You asked what I was referring to earlier? It's just that I hope you can stop being Oliver, the brother, the twin who's always been responsible for one half of a dynamic and managing a balance and become…you—a whole person who's allowed to have emotions."

She sighed a little and Naru looked away. "I guess I just hoped, after Gene, that you wouldn't be held back anymore," she said, "I'd hoped time would help, but…"

Madoka stood up, picking up the blue shirt and putting the hanger in his hand, "You are entitled to everything everyone else is Noll; you don't have to be the stoic one anymore." She smiled, "Wear this one to the dinner."

And with a final pat on his arm, she left the room. Naru stood by the edge of the bed, fingering the blue material Luella had always picked out for Gene because he'd been the only one of them who'd had a favorite color. Or who'd articulated a favorite color.

Naru waited for the lump in his throat to subside. When it finally did, he joined Madoka in the kitchen and didn't even protest when she insisted he have some toast with his morning tea.

…

* * *

...

The party was a small affair to celebrate the wedding, an informal rehearsal, Madoka had insisted.

It was the crew from SPR, a few other friends, Madoka's parents and Lin's mother. Naru, not much for indulging in alcohol usually, was sipping on his wine, trying not to wince at the future in-law's obvious discomfort with the entire arrangement. The family was sitting dispassionately at different ends of the table, not engaging in much conversation. Madoka seemed not to care though, taking animatedly with her friends by the dance floor, Lin by her side. Lin's father had refused to come and Naru was not surprised—the man had only hardened in his opinions about the Japanese since he'd known him as a teen. His lack of presence indicated the man's stance on the soon-to-be union.

That was bleak enough on its own yet, for Naru, the wine was for a different reason as well.

"Yasu, for the last time, you are not spinning or grinding on me. This is isn't a club."

"Come on, Mai, just one dance?"

"You've had two and it's not polite not to mingle," she said, smirking, fixing the skirt of her dress.

"Yeah, yeah," Yasu said, turning to Takigawa and wriggling his eyebrows, "What about you, fellow? Care to cut a rug?"

Monk visibly paled, looking around in distress for a second before spotting Matsuzaki by the drinks, "I…er…actually already promised a dance, excuse me." He rushed over to the woman and gestured erratically until she nodded, amused, and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor.

"No fair," Yasuhara groaned.

"I'd like to dance," Masako Hara gliding over to their conversation, the white and gold of kimono more extravagant than usual, and Yasuhara gave her a what he probably assumed was a charming grin but that Naru could only roll his eyes witnessing.

"Let's go then!"

Naru glanced at his watch—half past eight—and estimated that he could leave now. He'd shown up for long enough, been polite with the parents and congratulated his friends. They wouldn't expect him to stay longer, and his lack of desire to attend parties was not warming him to this one. Yet, for some reason, he didn't.

Mai was laughing with Brown-san and Madoka, her eyes shining just a little too brightly and Naru wondered if she too hadn't gotten to the wine. She nodded to something that was said, but her thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. Still smiling, though it didn't quite reach her eyes, she looked away from the group, her fingers doing their familiar dance across the satin of her skirt.

Naru wondered where the boyfriend was, whether he had been invited and concluded that Madoka would certainly insist that he was. Given the guy's constant need to check up on Mai, it was unusual for him not be present at what would, socially, be deemed a date event. For a brief instant, Naru wondered if they were no longer together, and the jolt of satisfaction that the thought engendered was enough to push him to his feet and give Lin an acknowledging nod before making his hasty departure from the party.

He was just out the door when her voice stopped him, and he froze, realizing that the sound had not come from behind him, but from inside his head.

Naru turned slowly and found Mai behind him after all, her cheeks unusually flushed, matching the rose-color of her dress. Her eyes were wide and she seemed quite rooted to spot.

"Was that intentional?" he asked, stepping away from the door of the restaurant and scrutinizing her.

She nodded slowly, _Yes_. She followed him to the side of the building.

"Are you able to control it so well?" he asked, aware that having her voice ringing in his skull was having a strange effect on him.

"No," she said aloud, then looked bewildered, "I've never been able to do this." _Are you sure you can hear me?_

"Yes," he snapped and immediately regretted getting worked up. Naru looked away, "Why did you come out here? You should get back to the party." He didn't bring up the unusual psychic display—that conversation should not happen now. It needed to happen when he'd prepared what to say…how to break the news to her as easily as possible.

Mai shrugged but Naru could tell it was facetious—she'd never been a very good actress. "I saw you leaving and I…I felt like maybe you've been avoiding me."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said and watched her take a deep breath, her pale neckline momentarily distracting him and he had to, yet again, force his eyes from her.

"Are you…are you angry? That I was in your head?" she asked softly and Naru glowered, stepping closer as to intimidate her.

"It's not something I enjoy," he said, though it was partly a lie, "I wish you'd refrain from reading my thoughts in the future." Naru straightened his posture and turned as if to leave.

"Well, I didn't!"

He paused, turning back, "What?"

"Read them," the girl mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself as if she were cold, "I could have, I think, but I chose not to. I just projected my own…"

Naru felt something like relief wash over him but ignored it, "You chose?"

Mai nodded, jaw set, "So you can stop acting all weird. I didn't try to figure you out or mess up your narcissistic, mysterious self. I know no more about you than I ever did." Her eyes were fierce and her expression intimated frustration…and disappointment.

At her words, Naru frowned but was unsure he should pursue this line of conversation. His gathered his wits and schooled his expression into a neutral one. Even if he was irritated with her probing and her continued insistence on perusing these heart-to hearts, he would have to be the one to cut them off. He still needed to prepare…he needed to have _that _conversation with her at some other point—

_You're angry at me_.

Naru looked at her and found her expression to be particularly stubborn. "I thought you wouldn't intrude into my mind," he said.

_I'm not_, _I can just feel it. You want me to go away._

For the first time in their relationship, Naru was stumped. Mai had not delivered this statement in an accusatory manner. In fact, she looked rather resigned…weary but determined.

"It's obvious," she said softly and her arms dropped to her sides, despite the wind that blew past them, much colder than it had been in the daylight, "This arrangement isn't going to work out, is it?"

It was impossible that she understood the whole of the feelings, but she understood the gist and Naru felt slightly wary at her abilities. Whatever he'd believed of her powers, he'd not expected them to keep developing as much as they had. As for the question, it was one that he had not idea how to answer. The plan wouldn't work…the conversation needed to happen now.

"Mai," he said after a long pause, "I think that you might be suited more for a different research institute—one that could really devote the time to helping you process your abilities. A larger lab, and more specialized training could make a huge impact for you. These abilities of yours will only get stronger, might even be more than you know how to control—specialists would be very beneficial." The words weren't as rehearsed as he liked, but he hoped that she wasn't as skilled at reading his intonations as he was.

Mai had not looked up since he'd started speaking, but he knew that she was listening, "I can put you in touch with several—you could even continue your studies and enter the field of psychic research, if you wished. I'd write you a recommendation."

This time she did look up and Naru was surprised at the blankness of her face, when he only knew her as expressive—every emotion clearly written on her face. "That...that sounds good," she said finally. She stilled her fingers, "Please let me know more as soon as you can. I'll finish up the week at SPR."

"Mai," he said, when she'd given him a parting nod, "I know you must be disappointed to leave, but this really is the best solution." He wasn't sure if even rehearsing this line would have made it sound more believable.

Her lips quirked upwards, but the smile didn't reach her eyes, "I appreciate all of your help. Goodnight, Naru."

The young man watched her slide back through the doors and realized that he'd been holding his breath harshly in his chest, waiting for the response. When he released it, he unclenching his fists, and turned to walk back home in the brisk air. It chilled him through his shirt; summer was over.

…

* * *

...

Quick raps on his door woke him and it took Naru a moment to realize that he was in bed, no longer asleep. A glance at his clock showed 1:04 am and he moved quickly to the sound of the kncking. Lin was a lighter sleeper, but Naru knew he'd be staying with Madoka tonight and that whatever this was had to be handled by him.

It only briefly occurred to him that he had not given his address to anyone, nor had any reason to expect anyone at this hour before he opened the door.

Mai Taniyama stood before him with her hair messy, dressed in the same party clothes as when he'd last seen her in. Her expression was unreadable as she said, "I need to talk to you."

Naru blinked, suddenly unsure if he really was awake. "How do you know where I live?"

"I asked Lin," she said and, without asking permission, maneuvered past him inside. _Lin_, Naru thought with no little bit of annoyance, unsure what his usually reasonable assistant would be doing giving out his home address. Or maybe Madoka was at work here, he considered. Mai's entrance certainly did seem familiar to the interrupted entrances he'd suffered at his mentor's hands.

Mai, meanwhile, had come in and taken off her shoes—heels tall and sharp looking and ridiculously impractical. Naru didn't have time to dwell on the absurdity of female fashion, however, as the girl in question turned to him. He noticed for the first time that her mascara was slightly runny and her eyes faintly red.

"What happened?" he asked, coming closer and forgetting his earlier annoyance.

She waved him off with a quick hand, "We need to talk."

He frowned at her demeanor, "Yes, you've said. What about?"

The brunette lifted her chin slightly, "Why? Why did you fire me?"

Naru was frozen for a moment, unsure how to respond. At his silence, Mai let out a frustrated breath, "Just tell me. I think I deserve to know." She scowled, "And don't say that stuff from earlier, about needing special help or whatever."

"Mai," he began but couldn't quite decide how to proceed. "I meant what I said."

She blinked at him and Naru was struck by how large her eyes appeared, even before she moved closer to him. "I know you meant it, Naru," she said, annoyed, "But I want to know _why_. Why are you saying it? What did I _do_?" At the word her voice cracked and Naru willed himself to subdue the coiling in his stomach.

"I think it's time you move on with your life," he said firmly, telling her the words he'd thought about before he'd fallen asleep, "It's time you began a career and really took some initiative about it. It's fortunate that the opportunity has been presented to you."

Mai looked at him, her face going from astounded to cold, "So you're doing this for my benefit?"

Naru didn't respond, turning slightly from her and trying to put some distance between himself and her eyes. She sneered, "Well how kind of you Naru, to _fire_ me for my own good. Because you deemed me too stupid to make my own decisions, or to even _discuss _this with me before…"

"I did not _fire_ you," he snapped before he could stop himself, "I had intended to have a reasonable discussion about this but _you_ had to push and invite your thoughts into my head—"

"You've been avoiding me!" Mai cried and she looked much younger suddenly, her shinny curls fallen around her face, her large eyes wet, "I just wanted to know_ why_! You never—you never say anything Naru! How am I supposed to act when I don't know what's wrong?"

"I've told you everything I care to," Naru said after a long silence, indicating that he was finished with the conversation.

Mai didn't move, "So that's it? _Years _of working together and you can't even tell me why you're suddenly so ready to get rid of me. So…afraid?"

Naru snapped his head up, "It's not fear, Mai."

"It is," she said, her eyes narrow as she stalked over, "Because it's _cowardly_ not to admit the truth to me. I might be naïve, Naru, but even I know better than to think you could be this _heartless_ about someone who's been with you for so long—your friend. Your…"

Naru's stomach clenched and he made his voice cold, "What, Mai? What are you to me, exactly?"

"I—I…" Mai seemed unable to respond. She watched him, surprised, at his aggressive question. It wasn't like him, he knew, but this emotions were, for the first time, taking over his reason.

Naru felt his anger come back, remembering her accusations, "My annoying, daft assistant? A clumsy idiot? The headstrong girl who causes more harm than good?" He paused, "The stupid child in love with my dead brother? What are you, exactly?"

"You—you," Mai hissed and he caught her wrist before she could bring her palm across his face in a slap, "how _dare_ you? You _don't_ know me, Naru, no matter how much you think you do, you self-important... You don't."

"Oh yeah?" he towered over her, ignoring the pulling of her arm as she tried to disengage her wrist, suddenly ready to push back, "Have you not abandoned every ambition to be a receptionist at SPR? Have you not let that oafish beau string you along for months without the gall to tell him about your abilities? Have you not _wasted_ any potential because you're too lazy to commit to one thing?"

She stopped struggling and brought her chin up and Naru watched, fascinated, as her eyes sparked in fury, "I was wrong; you _are_ heartless," she hissed, "God. I'll tell you what, Naru, I guess you have it all figured out, huh? You know everybody's motivations and everything they'll do before they do it and to have it all _planned_ because you, with your vast intellect, ordained it to be so? How does it feel to _know everything_?"

Naru glowered, feeling the heat spike through his stomach, "Exactly like I—"

He didn't have a chance to guess or prepare because, suddenly, out of nowhere, Mai was gripping the sides of his face and pressing her mouth to his. He felt force and hot breath and a sound that came from her throat—a growl—that echoed briefly before she pushed away, chest heaving.

Naru's astonished gaze was frozen on her face, her large eyes blinking tears and the quivering mouth that been on his own, "I've never pushed you, not once, because I believed you were _happy_ like this. I never pursued you. I left you alone because I _loved_ you, Naru, not _Gene,_ and I never wanted to make you compromise yourself. I stayed because I wanted to, because SPR was my family, because I believed in what we were doing. And I dated because I was trying to keep myself occupied." Mai paused, a sob overtaking her, "But then you didn't seem happy anymore and I wondered if….maybe you…but I was wrong. You're as unfeeling now as when I first confessed."

He felt himself trying to break out of this strange feeling, the dreamlike haze that had seemed to cloak everything, but Mai beat him to it. "I think I finally agree with you, Naru, I think it's time I moved on," she picked up her shoes and gave him a firm look, "I think I'll get that recommendation elsewhere." She turned and walked to the door, pausing briefly at the handle, but not saying anything further before she left.

Naru, for his part, did not move from his spot. Even if he caught up with her, he didn't know what to say because everything, all of this nonsense, was suddenly not such nonsense at all.

Bitterly, Naru wondered when Mai Taniyama had grown so astute, and when he'd become too dense to notice.

...

.

tbc...


End file.
